


Long Way Down

by mirandamyth



Series: Sidelines [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dean kills things, Death, Demon!Dean, First Blade, Gen, Hurt, Nothing is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, POV Castiel, The Darkness - Freeform, Unresolved Romantic Tension, enternal sadness, moc!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirandamyth/pseuds/mirandamyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a poetry about meeting Dean in the graveyard where he had once confronted Cain. Castiel wonders idly if Dean realizes where they're standing, if he knows that blood has soaked the earth here before, if he cares</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Way Down

"Do you ever think about how all this is going to end?"

Castiel removes his gaze from the battlefield he had believed long abandoned, fear constricting his throat. He meets Dean's eyes for the first time in centuries across the graveyard where he had once confronted Cain. Castiel wonders idly if Dean realizes where they're standing, if he knows that blood has soaked the earth here before, if he cares.

"Things never do seem to go our way, do they, angel?" The blade in his hand is unmistakable, its serrated edge casting strange shadows between them. "Been waiting for you to catch up."

Castiel studies Dean silently, shifting with him as he begins to circle, the tip of his own blade nudging at his fingertips. He hopes not to use it, hopes Dean will be able to overcome the darkness roiling inside of him.

"You certainly ain't celebrating anything that I've become." Dean gestures with the blade at the mutilated corpses around them, eyes flashing from green to black. "Or is this not darkside enough for you?"

Castiel feels their eyes on him; men, women, children, and it's as though they are screaming at him, asking why he hadn't saved them, why he hadn't protected them. Why he trails behind this monster but does nothing to stop him. Dean circles slowly, and Castiel shifts with him, slipping into a defensive stance automatically. He thinks of all the times this situation has been reversed, of all the times Dean had called him back. The bond they had forged in the bowels of Hell had been profound indeed. Castiel has never been able to ignore it, not even when he was corrupted. Even as he'd felt the power of Purgatory rushing through him, all he'd wanted was Dean. His love, his respect, his devotion. Naomi had tinkered with his very essence, yet Dean had broken through. Blue eyes meet black steadily, hoping to appear fearless. "Do you wish to kill me, Dean?"

"Could ask the same of you, Cas." Dean's circles tighten, closing the distance between them in infinitesimally small increments. "You did promise to — what was it?" Dean's voice drops in imitation, "'Watch me murder the world.'" Dean laughs bitterly. "You certainly held up your end of the bargain there."

"I know you wish to die." Castiel longs to close the gap between, wishes he could give Dean the peace he craves, "But I can't."

"Can't or won't, Castiel?" Dean sneers on his name, twisting it into an insult, "Or do you like walking through these bloodbaths? Do you get off on being the one who heals where I destroy?" 

"Dean." Castiel's voice is pleading, the single word laced with more desperation than he had intended. He knows what it's like to harbor darkness, that knowledge has blinded him from the truth. Whatever shadows had crossed his soul were nothing compared to the tidal force inside of Dean. He'd done his research, questioning countless angels, but it wasn't until he stooped the lowest, dealt with Crowley, that he got his answer.

                                                                                                           ••••••••••

_"Castiel, to what do I owe the pleasure?"_

_"I need to speak with an archangel."_

_"And you're here to see me because?"_

_"You currently have two of them locked up. The only two still alive."_

_"What makes you think I know how to put you in communication with them?"_

_"We both know you do." Castiel draws his blade, "Now it's just a question of whether you'll do it without a fight."_

_"Fine, fine," Crowley waves a hand and a demon comes forth from the shadows, "Drag my mother in. Preferably gagged, kicking and screaming. Be sure you bring the book." The demon nods, eyes on the blade in Castiel's hand, "NOW! Don't worry your little head about Castiel, we're old friends, isn't that right, Cas?"_

_"We have never been friends, Crowley."_

_"Frenemies, then. The important part is that you need my help, and therefore are not going to skewer me." Crowley's eyes flicker down to the blade._

_Castiel reluctantly stows his weapon, "How soon can you get me an audience with Lucifer?"_

_"Soon. Depends on how cooperative Rowena is feeling." Crowley smirks, "I'll call you when she cracks._ _"_

_It had been less than a week when Castiel was summoned to a warehouse in Nebraska, greeted by a bloodied Rowena and a smug Crowley. Castiel recognized the wide metal collar around her neck for what it was, relieved that, for the moment, she cannot double cross them for her own ends. As they make their way through Hell, Castiel can feel the wrongness of the place, the depths to which he's been forced to sink. They arrive in the most desolate corner of Hell, approaching a cage carved with intricate warding in three different ancient languages of magic, as well as Enochian._

_Rowena begins the protection spell after direction from Crowley, following with the summoning. It is not until his brother appears that Castiel realizes he doesn't know what to ask. Realizes that this is the bottom, the lowest he can get, asking assistance not only from a demon and a witch, but the first fallen. Lucifer looks around the chamber, catching his eyes on Crowley and Rowena, face quizzical, before Castiel garners his attention._

_"Didn't I destroy you?"_

_Face to face with his brother, and all Castiel can manage is silence._

_"Devil got your tongue, little brother?" Lucifer smirks through the bars, "C'mon, I know you didn't do all this work for nothing, ask me for a favor."_

_"I only require information."_

_"And?"_

_Castiel steels himself,"I was told it could only be obtained from an archangel, or Father himself."_

_A grin splits Lucifer's face."But Gabriel and Raphael are dead, God went out for a pack of smokes and never came back and... prison life hasn't really agreed with Michael. These days he's usually sitting in a corner singing show tunes and touching himself. So I'm it."_

_"Yes."_

_"And your question is?_

_"You gave the Mark to Cain."_

_"Ah, ah, ah, Cassie. That," He points a finger in Castiel's direction "is not a question."_

_"Tell me about the Mark. If you created it, how can it be destroyed?"_

_"I didn't create it for Cain, it was a given to me." Lucifer leans forward against the bars of his cell, "A present from dear old dad."_

_"Why would Father create such a curse?"_

_"Hang on there, buddy. How about a little quid pro quo?" The devil leers at Castiel through the bars. "Because I think you_ really _need this information. Which one is it, Castiel? Is it Sammy? Did my vessel go and get himself corrupted? Become the bad guy he was always told he would?" Lucifer appears both unfazed and unsurprised at Cas's surly silence, "Except if it was Sammy, big bro would have dragged you down here for answers much sooner. And you're here alone, so it must be that boyfriend of yours raising hell."_

_"It does not matter why I need to know." Castiel fights to keep the desperation from his voice, but does nothing to hide the anger._

_"Oh, so it_ is _Dean." He hums lightly, "That must smart, seeing the soul you dragged out of hell like that, all twisted and grotesque."_

_Is there a way to lift the curse or not?"_

_"It's not just a curse, it's a lock."_

_"A lock?"_

_"Holding back the biggest bad of them all." He whistles, "You all thought I was bad, but I'm nothing compared to her."_

_"Compared to whom?"_

_"His sister. The Darkness."_

                                                                                              ••••••••••

Castiel tries explain all of this to Dean, that he can't be killed. That he, alone, is the levy holding the flood at bay. He watches Dean draw close, fights the urge to drop his own blade into his hands, fights the urge to close his eyes and let death take him. It would be so much easier to die. But he has to live, because Dean needs him. Because Dean never stopped fighting for him. Because of every blow dealt by his own hands. Because Dean never hit back. And if there was one thing — one person Castiel believed in, it was Dean Winchester. The first thing he notices when Dean stops in front of him is that his eyes had returned to their normal green.

 Castiel allows himself to hope, as he has for years, that Dean, his Dean, is still in there somewhere, that he's still fighting. The hope that has always been fueled by the sides Dean chooses, the lives he does spare, that he's been allowed to live for so long, when they both know it would take so little effort from Dean to finish him. That hope doesn't fade as Dean lands the first punch, nor as Castiel takes the ones that follow.

"I'm here, Dean," he says, "You don't have to fight alone," and "It's ok, Dean, I forgive you."

He takes whatever blows Dean throws, grateful that it's only fists, that Dean had dropped the first blade before coming after him. After what may have been five minutes, but to Castiel feels like several heartbreaking years, the blows are less focused, less intense. Dean, he realizes, is sobbing, beating lightly at Castiel's chest and shoulders with the bottoms of his fists. Cas does the only thing he knows to do, and wraps Dean in his arms as his body shakes with the violence of his agony. He grips him tight about the shoulders and back, whispering apologies for Dean's continued existence, for not being able to save him from this torture.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry for this, guys. All four of you following this series.  
> However, if you wanna hear my headspace for this fic, here's my playlist:  
> Run by AWOLNATION https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mw2kKyJu9gY  
> Long Way Down by Robert DeLong https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LdHKIx6smag  
> Kill of the Night by Gin Wigmore https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGju9VaQuyg  
> No One Can Save You by Elle King https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKHgzYqEUWs  
> Hold Me Down by Halsey https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKnG2d9tZdU  
> Young Gods by Halsey https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bUhJRQSs6UQ


End file.
